I am having some difficulty lately. I have amazing things happening: new job, new house, and I am more than half-way through a pregnancy with a (thus far) healthy and normally developing baby.
However, the downsides are that the new job involves setting up a new office and our head office has not been great with communication, has provided only 30 minutes of training, and is not giving me any clear authority (they want something done and tell me to do it, I immediately start doing it but then they tell me to hold off, then tell me to get the info and they will make the decision, and then they complain that it isn’t done - this exact cycle has happened 7 times in the last two months). The new house needs cosmetic work throughout. Right now, the focus is getting the downstairs apartment redone so we can attract renters who aren’t 80-year old ladies, but I can’t help much because paint fumes, dust/dirt/mold from pulling up the carpets, and the proper cleaning solutions for the cement underneath the carpet are not safe for the fetus even with a respirator, per my OB. The pregnancy itself is having its ups and downs - from hip pain that makes it difficult to move and walk, periods of shortness of breath, going from ravenous one week to a complete loss of appetite the next, exacerbation of my insomnia, swelling for no reason, mood swings that are triggering my cyclothemic disorder and anxiety (both of which have been kept mostly under control with these techniques for the past several years, but those techniques can only do sp much), and I cannot take medication to help manage almost any of these issues. To make it all worse, my dog, Malcolm, passed away last week.
I think that I am keeping it together with reasonably good humor, but any time I express momentary frustration/exhaution/difficulty coping, particularly if it is to do with my pregnancy, at least one friend will functionally accuse me of being crazy. I have even had to delete social media comments from friends along these lines. Yes, I am crazy. I am clinicly crazy. However, I manage and part of the way I manage is venting and then moving on. Is it too much to ask that these judgemental friends recognize that and reconcile what they know of me (that I am not wholly irrational and that I am extremely capable) with the fact that sometimes I need the catharsis of venting without being insulted?